


Salvation

by ElizabethWilde



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 11:49:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizabethWilde/pseuds/ElizabethWilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The smell was what got the thought across finally and firmly. The place smelled of death.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salvation

The smell was what got the thought across finally and firmly. The place smelled of death. Even without seeing the bodies, no one could question what had happened in the sun-colored kitchen. People had died. And more people were going to.

“I’m going to die.” The words were spoken only in his mind, but that didn’t make them any less loud or any less disturbing. Ianto had been sure of his own death only once before, and Jack had saved him against all right and reason. Then he had been almost disappointed to wake up again. Now he was desperate to rid himself of the certainty. Jack might not save either of them this time, and Ianto didn’t want to die. Not anymore.

He let go of the fear and flung himself toward their captor - one of them, in any case. Pain exploded out from his stomach, and Ianto would have retched if he’d been able to draw enough air into his lungs. Breath came in short gasps when he finally managed to breathe at all. How long had they been doing this? How many had died? Focus came with his first long intake of breath. They had to escape. They would escape. Ianto made that his new internal mantra and tried to quash less optimistic leanings.

It was some comfort that Tosh managed to get away. She could find Jack, find Gwen, find someone better able to turn it all around. His vision swam, but Ianto could still see the blind fear in the eyes of the young man lying across from him. No hope. Before Ianto could contemplate the idea of utter hopelessness when one of them had just escaped, he could a hint of motion, and crushing pain led the way into darkness once again.

Waking was no better. The world still tilted crazily when he tried to focus, and the throbbing pain in his head made Ianto nauseous. The sight of a cleaver swimming into view cleared his head just enough to bring back the fear. One moment the blade was a breath away from his throat and the next it was torn away. If it wasn’t for Gwen’s arms around him and her solid weight against his back, Ianto knew he would have fallen back onto the grimy floor. A floor stained with blood and heaven only knew what else.

Ianto had never heard anything as beautiful as the sound of the gun. Fear melted into anger as Gwen pleaded for mercy. Mercy for the man who would have slit his throat a moment before. They didn’t deserve mercy. No warnings, just as Jack said. No mercy for people who weren’t truly human anymore. By the time Jack lowered the gun, Ianto was barely hanging onto consciousness.

By the time he was aware again, Jack’s arm was around him, lifting him off the floor. “What?”

“I said we have to stop meeting this way.”

Even though Jack’s smile was tense, it was lovely. Ianto managed one of his own. It was enough to bring home that his lip was split and his head still throbbed fit to beat the band. “We aren’t going to die, then?” If Jack said it, he would believe it. Ianto reached a hand up, grabbing one of the lapels of Jack’s coat and trying not to think too much about the blood he saw on his fingers and who it belonged to.

“Not today.” The brush of Jack’s lips against his forehead was so quick that no one else seemed to notice. “Not today.”


End file.
